Clarity
by ItsAstroAtlas
Summary: For Dib Membrane, his life felt like it was a stained-glass variation of the truth. Like a puzzle whose end picture was the complete opposite of what it should have been. He never knew why he felt this way; his life was perfect. What could be wrong about it? (Full summary in first chapter.)
1. Just Another Day

**Summary:**

For Dib Membrane, his life felt like it was a stained-glass variation of the truth. Like a puzzle whose end picture was the complete opposite of what it should have been. He never knew why he felt this way; his life was perfect. What could be wrong about it? Perhaps it had something to do with the awry feeling that would wash over him whenever he stepped foot into his father's lab. Or maybe it has something to do with those stray fragments of what could possibly be memories. Or by some chance, it had something to do with the small green-skinned man that made Dib's chest tighten and his brain hammer against the skull of his totally normal-sized head.

Dib had to bite down the inexplicable urge to call him an alien. How silly of him. Everyone knows that aliens don't exist.

(An alternative universe in which Dib a 23-year-old non-believer working with his father in his lab and Zim is a wanted space criminal.)

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**Author's Note:**

Hey, ItsAstroAtlas here! I just want to let you guys know that I SUCK at writing and I'M SO SORRY that this is not that great. This is an idea that popped into my mind and I wanted to try out. Also, this chapter hasn't been edited yet since I'm not entirely sure if I want to keep going with this or if I should delete it. AND, I sort of just gave up halfway through, so expect a sudden drop in the writing. I might come back to fix this one this one day. If you guys have any questions, comments, or concerns for this fanfic be sure to let me know here or on Tumblr! With that said, would you kindly enjoy your day?

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Most people would have been hysterical with fear at this sight, but he was captivated.

Perhaps his father was right; he was insane.

He treasured and adored their unworldly beauty, selfishly wanting to keep this rarity to himself. To him, he believed they should be kept a secret; a mystery that shouldn't be exposed to the world. It wasn't like the world wanted to see them anyway. They were too ignorant to see their loveliness like he could.

And it never mattered how many times he had seen them before, he always found himself entrapped by their charming and brilliant ruby color. They allured him, greedily stealing all of his attention whenever he gazed into them. Their vibrant red grounded him to the edge of the bed where he sat, reassuring him that he was actually there; that he was actually staring into those two round circles; and that they, to his disbelief, were actually staring back at him.

Dib Membrane couldn't feel any luckier.

Up close, he could see a sprinkle of sparkles scattered throughout their round sea of scarlet, enhancing their overall stunning appearance. They radiated with warmth and familiarity against the cold cast of faint sapphire moonlight peering into the room. Their soft glow pierced through the blackness, bringing forth a sense of comfort and reassurance. It was a type of solace insisting that among the darkness was an ally who would be there to accompany him when he thought he was alone. The type to imply that he would not have to continue being burned by the flames of his problems that have been scorching his heart. They were silent supporters that whispered gentle, easing promises declaring peace and denoted how everything would be okay.

And perhaps by some slim chance, everything would be.

However, the brimming compassion coming from these ruby-colored beauties was flawed. They were never created to be sympathetic and tender. Within their glossy redness, it was possible to see that they possessed a desire for destruction and pain. There was a glint of smirking amusement at the idea of feeling needed by others, especially those who were deeply troubled. Dib could also see a glimmer of humor when those beauties saw the sight of a shattered heart that had been beaten and bruised. They thrived on the feeling of being sought for desperate guidance and pathetic consolation: as if they were some sort of savior that was placed onto a pedestal by those aching for companionship. Uttering sweet nothings would take no effort from them for all they had to do was shimmer among the darkness, granting a false sense of security to lost souls like Dib. Who's to say that the twinkles glistering in the their glassy redness weren't clear reflections of the tears staining the faces of people they had hurt?

In spite of their intended cruel nature, Dib was still enamored with them. He still believed they were ever so enticing even if, amidst their own kind, they were as dull and as common as stones one would find outside by the sidewalk. For him, these red circular gems were as precious as diamonds.

But, the question is raised; what were these things that had, unbeknownst to themselves, stirred a raging fire within Dib's heart that refused to be extinguished?

Why, they were eyes that didn't have irises and pupils. At least, that is what Dib had finally come to determine as his most rational conclusion. Of course, he denied this answer because there was no biological way these things could be ocular organs.

Dib had spent countless hours browsing the web, looking for any medical condition that had left a human being or animal with solid colored eyes; solid _red _colored eyes to be exact. Each time, Dib he had come up empty-handed and only more confused than he was before as more questions swarmed in his head: What were these things? Why did they glow in the dark? Were they human? Why did they appear before him? Were they dangerous? Had he actually seen them or were they just a figment of his imagination? Why is he so attached to them if he didn't know what they were? Why did they always calm him down?

Why couldn't Dib forget the memory of them?

All those questions had been curious, whispered wonders that had once unfazed Dib when he wasn't given an answer to them. However, as time went on and Dib started seeing the memory more and more, these murmurs became roaring shouts in his mind. They implored him, urging him to seek for a suitable reply that would satisfy his hunger for knowledge about these things that had started to leave him up at night.

At some point, Dib had become desperate for any logical response. He thought of them as flashlights, nightlights, lightbulbs, bright neon disks, and even as a strange type of glow-in-the-dark stars. Once, he was on the verge of thinking these gentle luminescents as neon sunglasses his sister probably wore one night in his room until he saw them blink. Since then, Dib was a strong believer that they were eyes. Of what creature they belonged to, he didn't know. But what he did know was that they didn't belong to a human being.

Was he crazy to think that? Probably, but Dib would rather be crazy then in denial about this.

What had surprised Dib was how after accepting the thought of these ruby beauties to actually be ocular organs, he quickly started remembering other things within that memory. It had shocked him because while Dib believes he had once seen these ruby eyes when he was younger, he's not entirely sure. Whenever this memory comes back to him, it's always hazy and blurry. Dib could only describe it like a constant overlay of T.V. static placed over the recollection, preventing him from seeing it replay. And whenever he had tried to focus all of his attention on it, attempting to recall any more details, the image eluded him, kicking him out of his own memory. Dib hated it. Being teased about seeing something so beautiful but being denied the ability to learn more about it aggravated him. Yet, nothing was more infuriating than the throbbing migraines that fleeting memory would leave him as punishments for trying to dig deeper.

However, with the newfound permission the evocation granted with allowing Dib to see more of the memory, he managed to remember a significant amount of information. He could remember a ghostly sensation of a clawed hand cupping his cheek, the faint smell of something burning in the air, the taste of salty tears on his lips, and the indistinct silhouette of another person who looked like they could be human. As of today, much to Dib's disappointment, that is all he could seem to recall besides those charming eyes.

Those eyes. God, were they gorgeous. If he could, Dib would love to crawl into them and forever live inside them if it meant he would always be surrounded by their elegant splendor. Obviously he can't do this, so Dib thought of just carving out the eyeballs from this creature and preserve them in a container in his office. However, he eventually decided against it because of the chance of damaging them during their extraction. Of course, he would try his best to be careful and take it slow, but he just didn't want to risk it. Another idea came to mind of finding this creature alive and locking them away in a cage in his home so that he would always be able to see those eyes whenever he wanted. Although, the idea of someone finding this being in his home and taking it away to study it alarmed him. Dib didn't want anyone else to study this being; didn't want anyone else to see it; he saw them first, they revealed themselves to him. If Dib really wanted this red eye phenomenon to be showed off to the world, then it would be _he _who would do it on _his _own terms. He would be the one to research it, experiment with it, and expose it with _his _name as the founder because Dib needed everyone to know, that even after his death, this spectacle of bewitching delight was _his_; they belonged to _him_.

Okay, it's official; he really was unhinged.

"Dib, stop!"

Dib was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his father's voice and snapped back into reality, blinking a couple times to readjust his vision. Immediately, the overwhelming sense of feeling out-of-place consumed him, making him realize just how much he hated being in real life and reminded him how much he loved losing himself to his thoughts. Whenever he was conscious, Dib felt like he was in a weird state of being in a dream and being in reality. Every feeling was dulled; every sight a bit blurry; every word said was slightly muffled; every smell weakened; and every situation felt surreal as if it was and wasn't happening. Dib felt like his life wasn't connected properly as if he was a wire that wasn't connected properly to its source.

In a way, Dib thought he was constantly being submerged by someone into a pool of water, although while he could still breathe, it was hard to do so. Every breath took too much energy, every movement of his lungs too heavy and slow. Someone talking was muddled speech happening from above the water's surface and no matter how much Dib shouted at them to pull him out, no one heard him. He tried to swim up to free himself, but the hands pushing him down prevented him. Their strength was much stronger than his since he had spent years struggling and his body was finally giving in to the weight of the water surrounding him. At some point, Dib had stopped fighting this feeling. He let himself stay underwater and when those hands noticed his surrender, they let him go, letting Dib sink deeper and deeper into the watery abyss below him. Dib doesn't know how far he sank.

He deemed the idea of his soul exiting his body to watch everything go by like normal was actually plausible considering how disillusioned he felt. And the worst part about this whole experience was that this was a feeling Dib knew all too well and is something he's dealt with for years.

Once Dib's eyes refocused, he saw his mug overflow with coffee, which he was still pouring more into, on the counter before him. The dark liquid to spewed out of the container and everywhere on the marble surface, creating a much bigger mess. Startled by the disorder he was still making, Dib jumped back, letting go of the coffee pot in the process.

"Oh, shit!" Dib cursed, watching in horror as the glass container exploded on the tile floor, scattering the shattered pieces in various directions before his feet. A sickening silence filled the break room as Dib stared at the broken pot with pursed lips, already feeling dread at the upcoming lecture and migraine he would get later in the day. Behind him, Dib could hear his father clearing his throat, a sense of disappointment interlacing within the sound. Dib doesn't let his father down very often, so he would know what it sounds like when Professor Membrane was unhappy with him.

"Dib—" Professor Membrane started.

"I'm sorry!" Dib exclaimed, bending down to pick up the pieces. He reached for the nearest stray glass. "I'll clean it up right now."

"No, son, there's broken glass. You'll—"

A hiss of pain escaped Dib's lips as he quickly retracted his hand, seeing a thin stream of blood flow down the tip of his index finger. Professor Membrane sighed.

"—cut yourself."

"Sorry." Dib stood up before making his way to the sink, turning on the water and then positioning the wounded digit underneath the running faucet. He felt as though he made the whole thing a little worse just by trying to clean up the mess he made. It was pretty stupid of him to even consider the idea of picking up shards of glass with his bare hands. He knew he shouldn't have tried because they have janitors who they pay to do this, but Dib never liked the idea of having others do things for him, especially if was fixing problems he caused.

When Dib heard the sound of low, fuzzy humming coming from the entrance to the hallway, he didn't even have to look to know that his dad's business associates had floated into the room. Despite his father being the founder of _Membrane Labs of Science and Technology_ and Dib personally working for the organization for five years, he has yet to see these people in real life. He's gotten so used to seeing them within their blue-tinted monitors, almost forgetting that these were real people who actually have torsos and legs.

"Membrane-sama, we heard a crash. Is everything okay?" a Japanse man said as his screen glided over to Professor Membrane. Behind him, a small flock of other hovering displays with various faces followed.

"Oh, we're fine. My son just happened to have his head in the clouds again and I startled him, causing him to drop the coffee pot." Professor Membrane gestured to the shambles of what was left of the container on the ground. The group turned their screens to see the mess and they all broke out in concerned mumbles as they shook their heads.

"How terrible."

"What a shame."

"How could he waste such good coffee?"

Dib tried his best to ignore these comments as he shut off the water and dried his hand. He turned to face his father and felt his chest tightened at the concerned and anxious look Professor Membrane had given him when they made eye contact. Granted, half of his dad's face was concealed by his lab coat and his eyes were shielded by his goggles, but Dib knew his father and he could figure out what kind of emotion his dad was experiencing by now. He sort of had to know how to read his father's expressions since he worked alongside him everyday for nearly 12 hours at a time. Dib shifted his gaze from his dad to the floor before he walked over to the break room's digital control panel that was mounted on the wall, looking for the button to call for a janitor.

"Your son sure is a bit of an airhead, isn't he?" A random woman in the crowd of monitors asked. Professor Membrane chuckled heartily.

"Yes, well, that's what happens when you study anything relating to astronomy!"

An eruption of laughter came and echoed throughout the room, filling Dib's ears with the seemingly mocking sound. He glared at the array of buttons on the panel, feeling anger and embarrassment flooding throughout his body. So what if he decided to go into astronomy and work on astro-physics, astro-biology, and whatnot? It was his fucking life and it was the only option that appealed to both him and his dad. Space always interested Dib, and against all the various sciences that his father had offered him to study, it was the one that he felt like he would actually sort of enjoy. The universe was full of mysterious unknowns and there was so much of it out there that was just waiting to be explored. But sure, continue to laugh at his apparently stupid college degree and career choice in it.

Amongst the noise, Dib's hearing picked up his father's chortles right before he cleared his throat.

"I do, however, apologize for Dib's abestmindness. He underwent a tragic head accident a couple years ago that makes him go insane from time to time."

Once Dib had found the "Call Janitor" button, he tapped on it before turning around to stare at Professor Membrane with cold, narrowed eyes. "I told you before already," He walked over to where his father was standing near the counter which he was mindlessly wiping down due to Dib's mess. "I don't go insane, I just zone out and see these weird memories."

"Son, we discussed this," Professor Membrane interjected, a gloved index finger raising up to shake disapprovingly at Dib. "Those are not memories. Those are nothing more than—"

"Hallucinations," Dib finished with a dejected sigh, eyeing the spilt coffee on the counter. "Yeah, that's what I meant to say. I see weird hallucinations. Not memories." Dib looked up to Professor Membrane and could see his father's eyes crinkle at the edges through his goggles, leading Dib to assume that he was grinning at his son's acceptable answer. Dib tried to force a grin back but he was pretty sure it came out as a small, pathetic, crooked smile.

While Dib did strongly suspect that those "hallucinations" were memories, he didn't try to go against his father. When he first started to have these recollections he did tell his dad about it. In fact, Professor Membrane was the first person he told. He had hoped that the man would have answers to why he suddenly started having memories of things that defied all natural laws and normalities when he woke up from his week long coma all those years ago. For instance, Dib could have sworn he remembered being on the planet Venus, using it as a spaceship to fight another planet; Mars, he thinks. Then there was the memory of being turned into bologna in some abandoned house surrounded by ravenous canines. There was also the memory of when the entire Earth was about to be destroyed by some black hole thing called a "florpus" (or was it called a farpous? Flapous? Florpious? Whatever.) until a tiny, floating, purple moose saved it. He also recalled a giant Hamster named Poopi (or something that) demolishing the entire town. However, Dib thinks that last recollection could have just been from a Japanese movie he once saw.

Yes, Dib is fully aware of how crazy it all sounds. Trust him, he knows. However, he didn't realize this until well after he walked up to his father and explained in detail about all the things that Dib had "remembered." With each confident word that spilled out of Dib's mouth, Professor Membrane eyes shone with more displeasure and disapprobation. Somehow, Dib felt wrong to believe the things that he was saying. He was 19-years-old and a freshman in college at the time, he shouldn't have even considered any of these things that seem so childish and obviously made-up to be true. These memories were just as blurry and hazy as the recollection of those ruby-colored eyes he adores so much, and just like that memory, all of these memories never had a beginning or and end to them. They were clips of moments in time, forever stuck on replay in his mind, unable to reveal anymore than what Dib was able to see. So when he was nearly done describing his memories to his father, although albeit less sure of himself now, Dib wasn't surprised to hear his dad exclaim "Son, none of those things ever happened."

In spite of this answer, Dib strangely felt compelled to defend his memories, exhorting his dad to believe them, even if Dib wasn't fully believing them himself. But there was just no way that these recollections weren't real. They were too random and gave Dib too much of an adrenaline rush for them to be made up by his imagination. When his father shook his head and dismissed his son, Dib went to his sister, Gaz, who ignored his presence and avoided him like the plague, refusing to listen to a word he had to say. Talking to the students in his classes didn't seem to help either, all of them brushing Dib off as him being more insane than usual, which confused him. He had no memory of most of his teenage life so he didn't know if he insanity was part of his behavior. In fact, he seemed to be missing memories from throughout his life up until now. That head injury he suffered from must have been near life-and-death for him to forget about half of his life. But what perplexed Dib about the accident was how if it was so dire to cause this much memory loss, why was he up and walking within a week from when the injury would have occurred?

Nonetheless, that's beside the point. Dib had memories, or what he thought were memories, that no one believed. So, he gave up on them and pretended they were randoms dreams, or visions, or even hallucinations as his dad said. He ignored each recollection he had as he went through university and post-college, never telling anyone about them. He instead focused on his studies, wanting to graduate as quickly as possible and start working at a higher level in his father's lab, which he ended up doing right as he turned 23. On the night of his graduation celebration, a tired and slightly buzzed Dib came home to his apartment late and decided to let himself wind down by staying up and watching something on T.V. for a while. He didn't plan to land on a channel rerunning an odd and poorly funded reality TV show titled, "Mysterious Mysteries," but when the episode for the night focused on the universe and the possibility of alien existence, Dib, who knew almost everything about space and who had also grabbed a beer from his fridge to get drunker, thought it would be good for a laugh to watch.

And it was a good laugh. Dib was unable to stop snorting and chuckling at the sheer stupidity that radiated off the show as he lounged around on the couch, taking sips of his alcohol from time to time. He found himself smiling softly, however he wasn't sure if it was from constantly laughing at the idioticness of "Mysterious Mysteries" or from the sense of warm nostalgia he experienced while viewing it. This was weird to Dib because he doesn't remember ever watching it so he brushed the feeling off as maybe seeing it when he was younger and lost the memory of doing so. Yet, even with this reasoning of having seen this show before, Dib wasn't prepared to see what he saw next on his T.V. He had just come back from his kitchen after grabbing another beer and upon stepping foot into the living room, he heard what appeared to be his prepubescent voice coming from the television. As his eyes locked onto the screen, Dib's heart stopped as he saw himself at a young age, sitting next to some green-skinned kid on the show. He didn't hear what was being said, nor did he focus on the green child, Dib only kept his eyes on his younger self, a swarm of questions corrupting his mind but only one he actually cared for having an answer to:

What the _fuck _was he doing on T.V. for some shitty ass show?

As Dib gawked at himself, the camera cut away from him to the green child, and the kid, as if sensing the newfound attention on him, turned his gaze from the anchor to glare at the camera, lower lip protruding out a bit.

Dib's blood ran cold at the icy scowl that pierced his heart like an icicle had ran through the glass screen and into his chest. That expression felt personal; almost as if it was directed towards him and not the camera-man himself for placing the audience's full attention on the green boy. But what had Dib done to make the kid so upset at him? Was he the reason they were both on T.V. all those years ago when the show was still running? Who even was this kid?

A sudden flash of vibrant red circles broke Dib out of this thought process, startling him enough for him to drop his beer can onto the floor. He gripped the sides of his pulsating head, feeling each throb of his brain pushing against his skull as the image of those ruby-colored eyes appeared before him. He fell to his knees, pain overloading his head with each pounding thump. The memory came back so unexpectedly and kept phasing in and out of his vision, making it difficult for his mind to register just what the hell he was looking at. Dib wasn't sure how long he had spent doubled over in pain when he looked up from the floor, hands falling limp in his lap after clutching his head for so long. He soon realized that the "Mysterious Mysterious" show was no longer playing and it was instead a rerun of "The Angry Monkey" show, making Dib think that it must have been almost half an hour of sitting in pain.

Dib didn't really care that he missed the episode with him in it. If he really wanted too, he could always look it up later. Right now, he needed to figure out what that image with those ruby-colored things were. Of course, he didn't tell anyone about the new memory. Dib already knew no one would believe him. He was on his own with this. And somehow, this feeling of being a lone wolf in this situation, filled Dib with a sense of normalcy he didn't know he could experience. He felt as though he was so used to being alone when he was younger that he thought that maybe he _should still _be alone.

Fast forward eight months later to when Dib dropped a coffee pot onto the floor and his dad is bantering with his business colleagues in the same break room as him. Dib believes he knows the feeling of loneliness all too well and while he might be used to being alone in a room full of people, he still hates experiencing this god awful feeling.

"Alright," Professor Membrane said, breaking off from his chain of cheerful laughter. "Should we move back into the conference room and continue our meeting?" He asked the group of floating monitors.

"Yes," spoke the Japanese man. "Let's go do that."

"Wonderful. Follow me."

With that, Dib's father escorted the screens out of the room, leaving Dib standing by himself. He glanced at his overfilled mug and decided he didn't want coffee anymore, bargaining with the option to just grab a bottle of water from the fridge. A couple strides later and Dib was standing in front of the now opened refrigerator, reaching over to grab the bottled H2O when he stopped in his tracks. Two Ruby Red apples were perched on the top shelf among the drinks. Why they were in the fridge didn't matter to Dib, but he saw that they didn't have a sticky note with the name of the owner on them, so he took one before grabbing his water.

After shutting the refrigerator door, Dib looked over the apple as he walked over to rinse it off in the sink, noticing how it shone the same way those ruby-colored eyes did in the light. In fact, they were probably the same scarlet as those eyes, just less vibrant and more dull. Once the fruit was properly cleansed, Dib shook off the excess water on it, admiring the apple until the idea of it being one of the ruby eyeballs popped into his head. A sadistic grin materialized on Dib's lips.

"I wonder if those beauties would be heavy or light?" He wondered out loud to himself, tossing the apple into the air before catching it in his hand. It felt the weight of the fruit, pretending he was holding the ocular organ in his palm. Then, he pressed it to his lips, closing his eyes at the contact. "Would it be slimy and squishy or more of a glassy solid?" Dib mumbled to himself, his smile widening before he opened his mouth and took a bite of the apple. He didn't even try to ignore the idea of the red skin of the fruit being the ruby-colored eyes' sclera and the apple's juices belonging to the eyeball as well. Dib opened his eyes before he stared at the exposed antique white color, giving himself time to chew and swallow the food in his mouth so that he could savor the taste. When he was done, his eyes narrowed at the bitten apple, head tilting to the side with a smirk on his face. "Would it bleed the same ruby red if it was cut open?"

"Dib!" Professor Membrane called out, scaring Dib as he reentered the room. "Come into the conference room. You need to be present for this."

"Oh, right!" Dib cleared his throat, quickly wiping the smile off his face and tossing those ideas out of his head. "Coming!"

With that, Dib is out of the break room and making his way down the hall towards the Membrane Conference room. On his walk there, several workers in lab suits turned to face Dib as he strolled by, nodding their heads and greeting him with "Good afternoon, Mr. Membrane" or "I hope your day is going well, sir." It never failed to amaze Dib as to how everyone is so kind to him just because he's Professor Membrane's son and because he's also their boss. It makes him wonder if they genuinely care about him outside of their business and work relationship. Probably not, because if Dib decided he wanted to tell people about his strange memories, he knows people would just brush him off as "insane." If they really liked Dib, they would support and believe in him, right? Right.

So for as long as Dib possibly can, he'll keep putting on this act of how he cares about these people in the public eye because in all honesty, he really doesn't. He couldn't give two shits about them, he just wants to look good for his father's sake and the sake of the organization. He hasn't done anything to make people adore him like they do, which makes him to assume that these people would turn against him the moment he acts out of what is expected of someone who is the heir of _Membrane Labs_; a place of real science and out-of-the-box thinking for global improvement. Which working here, by the way, left Dib to quickly learn that focusing on anything that is outside within the realms of science as they know it is heavily discouraged, condemned even. Innovative thinking is expected at _Membrane Labs_, yet way too much of imaginative thinking is not. It is recommended to be a realistic visionary, but not an abstract fantasist. This explains why Professor Membrane dissuaded Dib from astro-sciences such as cosmology and astrology so that he could practice more concrete subjects such as astrophysics and astrobiology. The phrase, "the sky is the limit" is taken quite literally at the lab, enforcing the idea that everyone should be motivated to do something sky high that could change the world for the better but anything aimed further than that will cause disorder and mayhem.

Dib Membrane, however, hates the ideology his father has established in his organization because to him it's a load of bullshit that prevents the human race from improving even more. There's a whole universe out there to explore, but they're forced to stay within their Earth's atmosphere because it's _safe _and our _comfort zone _and there's nothing really out there? Says who? His dad, the supposed genius of the world? The man rejects anything that doesn't make sense to him. Dib loves his father to death, but he won't follow through with that teaching when he takes over the lab. He's going to think of the craziest, wildest, most unbelievable ideas for global improvement and people are going to support him, because when it comes down to it; _don't tell Dib Membrane the sky is the limit when there are footsteps on the __**fucking **__moon._

But anyway, Dib digresses. When he turned the corner to enter the conference room he didn't expect to hear his father's booming voice.

"Son!" Professor Membrane greeted loudly. "Come, take a seat next to me."

Dib glanced over to the only seat next to his dad at the head of the rectangular table that didn't have a monitor hovering over it. He walked over to the open spot, feeling anxious of the eyes coming from the monitors that followed his every movement. Just as he sat down in the chair, placing his snack and drink down in front of him, Professor Membrane spoke up.

"So what was it that we were discussing again?"

"We were going to talk about junior's new passion project." Some random screen said.

"Ah yes," Professor Membrane turned to face his son, everyone in the room doing the same thing. Dib mentally noted how he hated being in the spotlight nowadays. It was easier to blend in when he was still in high skool and working as a newbie in the lab. "So what is that you've been working on again? I know we talked about this before, but it seems to have slipped my mind."

Dib shifted in his seat, throat clearing. He didn't expect to talk about this today. His first meeting about this project was on Monday and he hasn't spoken to anyone outside of his work group about it since its proposal in the spring. It didn't help his nerves that he didn't have any of his project's plans or had rehearsed how he was going to lead the meeting.

"Uh, I thought we were going to have a meeting about this on Monday?"

"Yes, but for now just give us a little sneak peak about it. Some of our friends here might not make it to the conference."

Dib looked around the room, smiling faces and emotionless eyes stared back at him. He reminded himself that those were real people on the screens.

"Well," Dib chuckled weakly to himself, not knowing how to start. "As some of you may know, my project was proposed in back in March and since then, we've made tremendous progress. We have already finished the blueprint stage and have moved on with building the foundation of—"

"Could you tell us what it is you're making?" Someone asked with a thick arabic accent. Professor Membrane sure did have friends all over the world.

"Yes, sorry," Dib shook his head, cursing himself. "I was getting ahead of myself. I'm in charge of creating the first space cruise ship that would allow us to travel around Earth, our moon, and hopefully, Mars."

At first, the room was silent as the people in the monitors looked at one another, eyes wide at Dib's plan. Then, Dib felt his face heat up in embarrassment as they plunged into laughter. After some time, Professor Membrane stood up from his seat and quieted the room, voice firm and booming.

"Alright, that's enough!"

"We are sorry, Professor," spoke the Japanese man through his final chuckles. "It is just that, why would anyone want to go out to space? Is it not boring and empty like they say?"

"It's not boring!" Dib exclaimed, hands slamming down onto the table's surface as he pushed himself up to stand, his chair falling over behind him. "Our solar system is small compared to the rest of the universe yet it could be full of valuable resources and crucial information that could help our way of life! My cruise ship would be able to stop on the moon _and _Mars and people would be able to walk on them!"

"But, Junior, have you not heard? Mars disappeared years ago. Astronomers haven't been able to find it since."

Dib stopped moving, his blood running cold as the sudden static memory of him watching Mars fly into the Asteroid Belt took over his mind. With wide eyes, he looked over at the Japanese man.

"W-what?"

"Mars cannot be found in its orbit."

"N-No," Dib shook his head, denying the new information he was receiving. "A planet doesn't just...vanish! It's there, you guys just aren't looking in the right place! It's there! It has to be!"

"Professor Membrane," A Hispanic women who sat across from Dib spoke up, turning everyone's attention to her. "Are you really letting this boy be in charge of space travel when he didn't even know Mars no longer exists?"

"It exists!" Dib interjected. "It has too! If it didn't, why is no one talking about its sudden disappearance? Why didn't they cover it in the media or tell me when I was in skool?!"

"They didn't want the public to panic," The women explained. "Plus, who cares? It's Mars, it's not like it mattered."

"What?! Of course it mattered! Mars was the only planet we could live on besides Earth!"

"Why would we ever want to leave Earth? We already have everything we need to live comfortably here."

Dib smacked a hand against his forehead, feeling himself lose his patience. Just as he felt himself about to burst from the lack of care these people had, his dad cleared his throat.

"Everyone stop. I was a part of the group that attended Dib's proposal conference and gave him the go ahead. After some time explaining the benefits of this plan, Dib pointed out how good it would be to make a cruise ship that went out in space. Besides the money profit, it could be educational for children on field trips or for students seeking to being astronomers like Dib when he was still in university. And it would still be a cruise ship, so travellers would still be pampered as if they were on a very long vacation. The only difference between this cruise ship and a traditional one is that this one is in space. However, that is only the surface of what this space cruise ship has to offer. We can discuss this more on Monday. For now, let us just talk about something else."

As Professor Membrane continues to speak, Dib sighed heavily, moving to pick up his chair again. Before he sat down, he glanced over at the spanish women in front of him. She smiled slyly at him with a wink, making Dib's blood boil.

"Puta estúpida," Dib swore in spanish. He rarely spoke it since his family spoke English at home and at work, but after a culture project he did in high skool, he thought it would be cool to learn some of his mexican roots, including the language.

The hispanic woman's smile dropped immediately which was replaced by a snarl. Dib held back a laugh. He knew he shouldn't be severing business ties before he even took over _Membrane Labs,_ but he couldn't resist. She really was a stupid whore.

The rest of the meeting went by rather quickly and Dib didn't even notice that it had cut into the night. When everyone was floating out of the room, Dib had peered out of the room's many windows and noticed how the sun had already set beyond the horizon, making him wonder how long they've been talking about various current and new projects. He had hoped to spend a little more time on his cruise ship before he went home for the weekend, but he guessed he would just have to come in earlier on Monday to make sure he got everything ready.

"Son," Professor Membrane called, walking over to place a hand on Dib's shoulder. Dib looked up from his seat, watching his dad shift his weight from one foot to the other. "Listen, I'm sorry that they didn't take your project seriously."

"It's fine, dad." Dib said, brushing his father's hand off his shoulder before standing up. "It's not the first time people thought my idea was stupid." Dib pushed his chair in and picked up his empty water bottle along with the apple core to go toss it in the trash. "I'm used to this."

Professor Membrane stayed silent for a while, probably searching for the right things to say. Eventually, he spoke, words coming out slow as if they were testing the waters.

"Yes, but...Why do you deal with this? The backlash? No one really supports your passion project, in fact, I didn't either at first. Why a space cruise ship? Why astronomy? You're a brilliant inventor, Dib, yet you chose to dedicate your time to something that is based on loose ideas and theories. There is no guarantee that you would even succeed in travelling far into space, let alone Mars."

"Dad," Dib sighed. "I really don't want to hear this from you too."

"I'm sorry, Dib, but I want to understand. Even with everyone against you, you keep going with this project. Why?"

Dib shrugged, not really knowing how to answer that. To be honest, he didn't really know why he was doing this either. Something inside him told him that he should go out into space and look around, search for something that was waiting for him to go and get it. From the moment he recovered from his head injury, he was drawn to the night sky and looked at it with hope and wonder in his eyes. Looking up at the darkness of the night and dreaming of finding that thing gave Dib a small sense of clarity. As if space was somewhere he was suppose to be. For once, he felt somewhat in tune with his body and his surroundings. His indistinct and suppressed sensibility felt sort of fixed. Dib could feel things to an extent and he believed he was alive. Space reassured him that he was real and that he existed and Dib, couldn't be happier with this feeling. Of course, astronomy never made him feel as clear as those ruby-colored eyes did, but the sensation was similar. Dib started to think that in some way, those eyes were the ones who were waiting for him up in space somewhere.

So when his dad asked him to change his university major to something besides parapsychology (which he didn't understand why he had chosen in the first place), Dib chose astronomy. Since then, Dib had waited for the opportunity to go explore into space and when that opportunity came in the form of building a cruise ship, Dib was ecstatic. Each day that he spent working on his ship made him feel closer to finding the thing that kept leaving him up at night to stare at the stars just a little longer before going to sleep.

"I just want to, dad. Is that so hard to believe?"

Professor Membrane sighed heavily, shoulders slumping a bit.

"Yes. Yes, it is, Dib. You're going to be in charge of _Membrane Labs_ soon and I need to know that you're going to be making smart investments and lead great projects. I let you do this project in the hopes that you understand what you will be dealing with once I'm gone. These people will look up to you for guidance and they can't follow someone who they think is delusional, has his head in the clouds, and does things just because he wants to."

Dib rolled his eyes, but nodded his head in understanding. He hated talking about himself with his dad because it always led to these types of disagreements.

"Okay, fine, don't worry about it. I promise you that once this project is over, I'll stop with the daydreaming and actually start to focus on my job like _you _want me to. By that point, I would have already finished the ship, travelled into space, and found what I would have wanted to find."

"And what is it that you are looking to find in space, son?"

Dib mentally slapped himself. This is what he gets for revealing too much. He can't let his dad know that the only real reason he wants to travel into space is to look for someone who had red-colored eyes that probably doesn't even exist.

"Nothing!" Dib replied quickly. "I'll just find myself. I'm a little lost right now, so I think I'll find myself when I go in space. It's pretty calm up there so it could be therapeutic, y'know?" Dib let out a feeble and unconvincing laugh as he walked backwards from his father and moved towards the door. "Anyway, I should go. It's kind of late and Tak is probably waiting for me in the lounge and I don't want my butt kicked for taking too long again."

Professor Membrane lit up at the mention of Tak, forgetting the previous discussion they were having.

"Tak? Well, it is rude to keep your little girlfriend waiting. You should hurry and go then."

Dib tripped over his own feet but caught himself from falling over. His cheeks flared a light pink.

"Dad! She's not my girlfriend! Why do you keep saying that?"

"Of course she isn't," Professor Membrane laughed, obviously unconvinced at Dib's words. "Aren't you a little old to be playing this denial game? How does your girlfriend feel about you lying about this at this age?"

Dib bit the inside of his cheek as his fingernails dug into the palm of his hands to keep himself from screaming. There was no use to keep denying it at this point. Dib had played along with this idea for a while to protect his sanity before and that's probably the reason as to why his dad thinks they're dating. However, he wasn't sure how long he could keep this up.

"Dad, we're not dating. I'm not even entirely sure I like gir—"

The slam of an opening door cut Dib short, making his flinch and jump away to avoid getting in the way of whatever it was that came into the room. When he looked to see the person who now stood in the middle of the room, fuming and seething, Dib gulped dryly in fear.

"Oh, fuck." He whispered to himself.

"Membrane, you bloody little shit!" Tak swore, her british accent lacing into each word that left her mouth. She looked around the room to spot Dib but when her eyes locked on Professor Membrane, she quickly put on a happy, polite act. She walked over to him, hand coming out for a handshake, which he took. "Hi there, Professor Membrane. You look well. I apologize for the rude entrance, but I'm looking for your son. Have you seen him around?"

"Of course, he's right over there."

With a pointed gloved finger, Professor Membrane exposed Dib who was standing next to the door, trying to hide behind a fake tree-like plant. Tak refocused her warm gaze from his father over to him and he watched her expression turn into something more sinister.

Well, shit. Time to write that will early.

Every step Tak took towards Dib made him recoil back into himself and he quickly found himself wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him whole right then and there. Falling into the fiery depths of Hell seemed much more desirable than dealing with an angry Tak. When Tak finally approached him, she pushed the plant away before grabbing Dib by the collar of his lab coat, yanking him down to her level. Up close, Dib could clearly see the minor details of her facial features. He could describe them, but he found that he wasn't good at focusing on details when there was a pissed off woman in his presence with a perfervid purpose of skinning him alive for whatever reason she saw fit.

"I've been texting and calling you for the past fucking hour! Where have you been?! Your shift ended a long time ago!"

"Really? What time is it?"

"It's 10:38." Professor Membrane said, looking at the watch on his robotic arm. It was a last minute gift Dib had given him for his last birthday.

"Listen, Tak," Dib spoke, hands reaching up to gently pry her hands off him. When he saw that her grip was as strong as steel, he gave up. "I was in a meeting that ended up being dragged out a bit. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were waiting for me this whole time."

Tak stared sharply at Dib, looking for a hint that would usually gave Dib away when he lied about something. When none presented itself, she sighed and let him go, taking a few steps back to let him breathe in his new freedom.

"Next time, a text would have been sufficient in letting me know you weren't coming."

"You should have just left without me, Tak."

"I could have, but then I realized that you were the one who fucking drove me to work today, you arse."

Oh yeah, that had been a thing. Whoops.

Dib pursed his lips, feeling stupid for forgetting something like that.

"I'm sorry, should we go then?"

"Say no more," With that, Tak walked out of the conference room and into the hallway, leaving Dib to stare at his father who heard their entire conversation. When Dib opened his mouth to say something, his dad shook his head.

"Just go. She's already upset as it is and keeping her waiting any longer would not be good for you."

Dib nodded at his father's words and bidded him a goodnight before, he too, walked out of the room to eventually meet Tak in the lobby. Together, they walked out of _Membrane Labs_ before making their way out towards the parking lot. Looking around, Dib noticed how there were few cars in the lot meaning that most of the workers had gone home already and those inside were probably a part of the cleaning staff along with his father. Dib frowned at the thought of his dad as he got into the car with Tak and started it. While he didn't like to disappoint his father, he tried his best to never let him down when it came to anything but him. Most of Professor Membrane's displeasure rooted from Dib and his antics and because of that, Dib wasn't close to his dad. Well, he was; he was comfortable talking to him about anything and enjoyed working alongside him, but how can someone be truly close to someone else if they can't talk openly about themselves? When Dib could, he steered the conversation away from himself when he spoke to Professor Membrane. It always seemed as though talking about Dib left his father feeling dissatisfied with his son's life choices, even if they just so happened to be picked by his dad. But that wasn't his father's fault, no, it was Dib's because he's not doing _exactly _what his father wants him to do with these life choices.

"Dib, are you alright?" Tak asked, noticing the sudden dejected mood that had started to transmit off of him.

"Fine."

Without a glance in her direction to see if she had her seatbelt on, Dib put the vehicle into gear before driving out into the main road. Dib loved driving at night; it soothed him. There weren't many cars around to annoy him and it was always quiet. A roll of the window allowed Dib to feel the cold fall air enter his car and caress his skin, leaving goosebumps in their paths. As the wind danced with his hair, Dib smiled softly to himself, feeling a sense of peace replace the heavy weight that had left his shoulders. Leaving work at night always left Dib feeling lighter, clearer even. It wasn't that he hated his job, on the contrary, he thought his work was fun. Although, there was no denying that he was drunk on the cleansing sensation his body experienced when he drove away from the lab.

"Are you going to star-gaze with me tonight?" Dib asked.

"Dunno'," Tak replied, head tilting to rest against her closed window. "It took you an awful amount of time to get off work and I don't feel like spending time with you right now."

"Understandable."

The two fell quiet, filling the silence with soft music that was flowing out of the radio that was playing. Neither of them paid attention to it.

"Are you mad at me?"

"What do you think?" Tak replied coldly, turning her head over at Dib. "This is the fifth time you've done this in the past month."

"You could always drive yourself." Dib arched a questioning brow, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

"And waste gas money? No thanks." With a scoff, Tak leaned her forehead back against the cold glass like before.

Dib glanced over at the dark blue-haired girl, watching as the passing street lights lit up her face and created a reflection in the glass, allowing Dib to see the angry look she had on her face. The orangey light from the street poles casted their warm glow over Tak's figure, making her hair appear almost purple. Suddenly, Dib had a thought that quickly verbalized itself, making him curse himself for not being able to keep his mouth shut.

"Sometimes you remind me of Gaz."

A fast head turn from Tak made Dib instantly regret saying anything. He wasn't close to Gaz, so talking about her always made him feel uneasy. He was afraid of saying the wrong things about her, which he often did, made him feel like an awful older brother who didn't know a thing about his younger sister. The only thing he did know about his sister was the she had purple hair and seemed to always be upset with him when they were kids. He didn't know much beyond that. Then again, after Dib's accident, he tried to reach out to her, but she kept to distance. They rarely spoke since.

"Gaz? Your sister Gaz?" Tak asked, leaning forward towards Dib as if to hear him correctly.

"What other Gaz do we both know?"

Tak shrugged before settling down back into her seat, arms crossed. It was quiet again before Tak spoke up.

"So how is she?"

There it was. It wasn't a question Dib knew the answer to, so he went with the most generic one.

"I think she's doing okay. I heard that she's coming on Wednesday, by the way."

"No way. Is she really?"

"Yeah, I think she is." Dib said with a nod, glancing over to see a grinning Tak.

"Hell yeah, I love that girl. It's been forever since she and I last hung out."

Dib smiled to himself. He loved seeing his sister and best friend get along, even if it meant that they excluded him from everything they did and had the habit of pulling pranks on him when he was least expecting it. Regardless, he still loved that they were great friends, even with the little amount of time they had together.

Pretty soon, Dib made it to Tak's house. After dropping the girl off and saying their goodbyes, Dib started making his own way home. It was a pleasant ride by himself and before he even knew it, he was at his house. Dib lived on the outskirts of the town, vauling solidarity and privacy more than anything. Yes, he did hate feeling alone, but he enjoyed the feeling when it was Dib who made himself feel that way.

The house itself was almost identical to his father's house, which was expected when it was Professor Membrane who came up with the blueprints of the building and paid for its construction. Personally, Dib didn't have the urge to buy a house just yet, but as a combined gift for his 23rd birthday and graduation, his father presented him with the idea and Dib, being unable to say no to his dad, agreed. A couple months of construction later and Dib is now living in this replica of a home. He didn't mind it, honestly. It was nice to have a hybrid of a lab and a home to himself.

Dib wandered into his house, making a beeline for the fridge so that he could start the beginning of his weekend ritual of being halfway to blackout drunk. After collecting a couple of beer cans and stuffing them in his lab coat's deep pockets, Dib made his way to the second floor where he could climb a ladder to access the roof. Once he was there, he made his way over to the safe that was up there, opening it to take out his laptop and compact telescope. Dib did have a giant observatory telescope, but he didn't like the loud sound it made as it opened up the ground and rose all the way up from the underground lab to ground surface. Plus, Dib loved being a little closer to the night sky.

After setting up his telescope, his laptop, and his foldable lawn chair, Dib sat back and took a few minutes to just relax and drink some of his beers. It was comforting, the night silence. While it was leading into the cold fall season, he could still hear the faint chirping of crickets within his backyard. From up on the roof, Dib could see stray glows of the lightening bugs that drifted into his yard, making them seem like little moving stars. Dib would miss these calm summer nights. Once it started moving into September, he would have to cut back on the star-gazing due to the weather. It wasn't that he couldn't tolerate the cold, it's just that he didn't want to risk getting himself sick and missing out of work, making his father upset.

Soon enough, Dib had drank about two cans before he decided that it was time to actually use his telescope to look at some planets and look for certain, smaller constellations. As Dib turns the dials on the device, he looking into the telescope to see how focused it was when he saw something burning through the lenses. Dib pulled back, blinking, before he looked again to see the burning object appear closer.

"What the…?"

Dib turned his head upwards, eyes widening behind his glasses as he saw something shining up in the air, rapidly descending. At first, Dib grinned because he knew it was a meteor that was falling towards Earth and would soon be examined later on in the week once someone found where it landed. Then, as realization consumed him, it dawned on him that the someone who find where it landed would be him because it was heading straight for him.

"Fuck!"

Dib fell out of his chair and braced himself, body forming into a ball as his arms shielded his head. Dib knew that there was no time for him to run away, the explosion and flying debris would still kill him. So he waited during those couple of seconds brimming with pure dread, silence, and waiting before the collision happened. Dib thought of his life, feeling that it was over and now would be the time to think of all the good times he had. When he came up with very few of those moments, he grew mournful of it. On the bright side, there would be no one to upset when he was taking too long to give them a ride home; no one to disappoint anymore; no one to criticize him for his interest in astronomy; no one to brush him off about his insane memories.

A flash of red eyes popped into his vision. Dib's heart sank.

He never had the chance to find that person. No one would ever see those eyes again, including him. He would gladly continue living his miserable life if it meant he could have the opportunity to see them once more. He would endure a whole lifetime of feeling submerged in water if he could meet this person even for a minute. To stare into their eyes and tell them how beautiful they are felt like it would make Dib happy enough to die without any regret.

They were so gorgeous, those ruby-colored eyes. As Dib thought about them there, curled up on the roof waiting for his demise, he felt a sense of peace. He felt like he would be okay. They were so reassuring; so stunning. They gave Dib a will to live and he adored them. They were breathtaking and Dib loved them. He loved them so much. He wanted to be consumed in their splendor and he wanted to consume them. They were so utterly and magnificently—

Dib didn't get to finish his sentence when a sudden impact cuts him off. The sound of an erupting explosion travels throughout the sleeping town, followed by a deafening and sickening silence.


	2. Crash Landing

**Author's Note:** Atlas here! Wow. Okay. So, a lot of you guys seem to like this story because I didn't expect this many people to read this hot pile of trash. I guess that means I have to actually continue writing the story instead of just leaving it there to rot.

Also, whenever you see asterisks (*) followed by a number, it means that there is a note at the end of the chapter where I explain in detail about whatever it is I need to explain but it isn't crucial to the story.

With that said, would you kindly enjoy this chapter?

* * *

Dib once heard that death's welcoming embrace was warm and peaceful.

Just before the soul begins to exit the body, the world around the person begins to fade to black. Then, that person is overwhelmed with the fused sensation of exhaustion and relaxation. With no strength left to lift their head or even open their eyelids, they give in to the heavyweight of their body as they descend into a dark void. Despite them knowing that it's the end of their life, there is no feeling of fear or sadness. Instead, they find tranquil acceptance towards the nothingness encompassing them. As a glowing warmth envelopes their body, dulling their senses to the sudden silence and stillness, they soon reach nirvana.

Dib wasn't sure if this occurrence was real or not and didn't care for how accurate its telling was. However, that didn't stop him from hoping to experience it when he died from the meteor crash. But he didn't. Dib didn't feel any of the warmth or peace that came with death. The only thing Dib encountered was seeing darkness accompanied by a sharp ringing sound within his ears. As his heart hammered against his ribcage, threatening to break the bones from the hard pounds that pulsated throughout his body, Dib clutched the fabric of his lab coat. Piercing pain flooded his senses, letting Dib know he now owned bleeding cuts and dark bruises along his body. Just as Dib began to question why death felt so brutal for him, he opened his eyes.

"Holy shit," Dib breathed out as he took in his blurry surroundings.

Dib could see everything as he laid on his back, although blurry as it was, he could still vaguely make out his environment when he looked around. His equipment had scattered around him on the roof, and above him, he could make out the distorted twinkle of starlight. The sight filled him with a sense of comfort and reassurance, making him realize that if he saw all of this, it could only mean one thing.

He was alive.

Dib threw an arm over his face, burying it deep within his elbow. Disappointment washed over the young man, and before he knew it, he was groaning in the annoyance of not being given the blessing of dying, especially after he already accepted death. It wasn't that he was suicidal; he just didn't want to feel like he was a walking corpse every moment of his life. The perpetual state of what resembled to be morphine being steadily injecting into his bloodstream was fun at first. Similar to a drug high, it made Dib feel elevated from reality. It relaxed him and eased any mild pain he could have. However, when Dib registered how the dysphoria hoisted him up to the height of clouds, and Dib could no longer feel any type of physical sensation for that matter, Dib became stern. He wanted to return to his sober self but found himself unable to. The drug-like feeling continued to shoot into him, and no matter how much alcohol he drank and medications he took, hoping to counteract the dulling sensation, it never seemed to beat the overbearing sense of deadness that consumed Dib. Like if it was real morphine, it was absorbed into his blood and carried throughout his body, establishing a permanent unconsciousness in Dib that left him mentally clouded, constantly dysphoric, and anesthetized.

Dib eventually convinced himself that the source of this displacing and numbing sensation was coming from the air around him. The oxygen surrounding him must contain some sort of chemical element that made him feel this way whenever he inhaled through his nostrils or mouth. Each intake of breath was another drugging dose, and Dib had long since been waiting for the day when his body overdoses from the very air that is supposed to keep him from suffocating. In some sick and ironic way, Dib felt like he was drowning with every breathing moment of his life, and it makes him wish that he could immerse himself in a pool. At least that way, when Dib dies, he wouldn't have to take in another gasp of foul and intoxicating air. Maybe then, Dib wouldn't feel heavy in his movements, and the water his lungs take in wouldn't sedate him and cause him to feel dead inside. Perhaps it does take Dib to submerge in water to rid himself of this burden of feeling engulfed on land.

Again, Dib doesn't want to die; he just doesn't want to feel desensitized anymore. The only time when Dib isn't feeling this way is when he's sleeping, but those are rare occurrences because of the firm grasps of insomnia has on him. Dib tried seeing a therapist for feeling like this, but they never seemed to help him properly. Defeated, he forced himself to accept this feeling after a couple of years, figuring that he would eventually grow accustomed to this sensation. And Dib was right. While at his current age of 23, Dib still hates feeling like he's on the outskirts of reality, but he had managed to learn to live with it. Dib knows that as long as he feels this way, he knows he is alive and can continue to work towards getting himself into space.

An image of ruby red eyes darted across his mind causing Dib to shoot up into a sitting position and his head to become lightheaded at the sudden action. At the back of his skull, he could feel his brain faintly pulsating against it as if it was warning him of an oncoming headache later. He brushed off the detail after mentally noting to take an Advil soon, waiting for his dizziness to pass. Once it did, Dib looked up at the night sky. It was blurry since he didn't have his glasses, but that only made it more beautiful. The fuzzy twinkles of the stars above him gave Dib a sense of ease, encouragement, and even wonder. He smiled softly to himself, feeling sort of glad that he was alive now. He realized that he still had an opportunity to find those gorgeous eyes and claim them as his.

With the regaining of motivation for his life, Dib quickly moved into gear and stood up. First things first, he had to study the meteor that fell from the sky. It could be full of valuable resources that Dib could use as reasons for traveling out into space. Not only that, but it would help Dib to get more support for his passion project if he brought in a real meteor that carried helpful minerals. It would also give him an idea as to what type of elements are already out in space and to properly build his spaceship to withstand the impacts of roaming space rocks like that one. Dib turned to start walking to the edge of the roof, but once he noticed that he couldn't correctly see where the side of the roof was, he got down onto all fours.

Okay, re-shifting priorities from studying the meteor to finding Dib's spectacles.

Dib patted around with his hands to find his glasses that have fallen off his face during the crash. Once the cold touch of glass and metal frames made contact with his fingertips, Dib took a deep breath and held it. He was scared to see if the lenses had cracked. He had a history of breaking his glasses, and he had just gotten them fixed. It would be embarrassing if he had to go to his eye doctor once again. Unsteady hands picked up the fragile eyewear before bringing them close to Dib's face so he could scan over them. He let out a relieved sigh once he saw that they were in excellent condition. He set them back on his face, pushing them higher on the bridge of his nose and blinking a couple of times to help his vision readjust. Dib looked around the roof for the first time with clear eyesight, noticing several pieces of rubble that launched on top of his house from the crash. Luckily, only his lawn chair was severely damaged, and that was a simple dilemma to fix.

Dib stood up once again and slowly walked to the edge of his roof that faced his backyard, careful not to trip over any meteor wreckage that had propelled onto his house. With wide eyes and hitched breath, Dib gawked at the sight down before him.

Through the ascending dark gray smoke, Dib expected to make out the deformed, rocky outline of a meteor. Instead, he found himself staring at a tiny purple plane. It wasn't particularly huge, but Dib thinks it could have been the same size, if not a bit bigger, as one of those EQ ForTwo compact cars. Various parts of the aircraft had fallen off of it and scattered around his backyard during the wreck. The vessel itself was severely damaged, and from the roof of his home, Dib could see that the windshield had indented into itself, which is unnatural because glass doesn't bend; glass breaks. On top of the plane appearing round, Dib noted how the aircraft didn't have wings or a tail, which didn't make sense. Round aircraft can't fly because they aren't aerodynamic, meaning the plane could have lost both its wings and tail, causing it to fall out of the sky. The other possibility was that this plane was an experimental craft that tested circular aircraft and its ability to withstand flight, which was a complete failure.

Regardless of the reason for its crash, the object wasn't a meteor, and someone was going to pay for the damn damages done to Dib's property.

Frustrated and fuming at the disappointment of the crash not being a space discovery, Dib made his way over to the roof's ladder and climbed down. What kind of idiot loses control of his plane so much to the point where he breaks the most critical parts of it, like the wings and tail? And if that's not the case for its fall, what kind of person is stupid enough to fly a round-shaped airplane?

"Brainless morons, that's who," Dib muttered to himself.

After promising himself to never sink to that level of stupidity when it comes to building his plane, Dib soon found himself standing at the bottom of the ladder, which happened to be on the balcony of his bedroom. With a tired sigh, he entered his room, feeling drained for all of the events that occurred today. From the broken coffee pot in the break room, the meeting, the little dispute with Tak, and finally to this headache-inducing crash by a terrible pilot. On the bright side, even if it wasn't a meteor crash, Dib considered himself lucky that the vessel has crashed into his backyard and not on his house with him on the roof. With a glance at his bed, Dib felt his shoulder slump, and his eyes droop with exhaustion. He realized how he hasn't slept more than six hours in the past couple of days due to working on his upcoming meeting with his project. The bruises and cuts he received from the plane wreckage also didn't help his already aching and tired body. It had been a stressful week with an even equally stressful start to the weekend. For once, Dib felt like he could sleep all day, but knowing his insomnia, the chance of that happening was highly unlikely.

"I wish Tak were here," Dib said to himself. "She would make this whole ordeal somewhat better."

Dib remembered their exchange from earlier that night, a soft frown appearing on his face when he recalled how upset Tak was when he saw her burst into the conference room.

"Yeah, she has every right to be mad at me," Dib sighed, running a hand through his short, black locks as he walked out of his room and towards the staircase. He could feel the dirt from his backyard in his hair and felt the sudden urge to shower; however, he brushed off the need for now. "I need to get her another reliable ride. Maybe Sara can start taking Tak to work? Nah, she would want something in return. Maybe Gretchen would be down? Gretchen is more likely to do whatever favor I ask of her. Yeah, that seems like a good idea."

"Dib, you are speaking to yourself again," His home computer pointed out, a slight echo trailing throughout the house. The sudden voice startled Dib at first, forgetting that he had imported his laptop AI to his house security system when he first moved in. He thought it would have been a helpful upgrade, which it was. On top of providing superior security to the house, it was also connected to the computer system at Membrane Labs, significantly increasing the accuracy and abundance of information it collects for him in a fraction of a second. It was also exciting to be able to control the house lights with a simple voice command, but that's beside the point.

"Was I?" Dib asked, stopping at the end of the stairs and peering up at the ceiling. He never really knew where to look when addressing his house AI, so he settled with looking at the ceiling because he was talking to the house after all.

"Yes, sir."

"Oh," Dib frowned, looking down at the floor in shame.

In his peripherals, Dib noticed an end table next to him at the bottom of the stairway and turned his head up to see a framed photo facing him. The photograph was of him as a fresh college graduate confidently and happily holding up his diploma as his sister and his father stood on either side of him. His frown deepened as he studied his sister's uncomfortable posture in the picture. She stood some distance away from him, arms crossed and looking off the side. Gaz didn't even attempt to act happy about his accomplishment.

His father, on the contrary, proudly beamed with delight as he had an arm thrown over Dib's shoulders, squeezing him close to his side and flashed a thumbs-up at the camera. His dad was still wearing his lab coat, but he had his science goggles up, and Dib knew his father had a grin on his face by the creased corners of his eyes. In contrast to the two men, Gaz painted a sour mood in the photo, and Dib contemplated cutting her out of it again but ultimately decided not to. He wasn't close to Gaz, and they never spoke, but she was still family. Unlike his dad, Gaz didn't have an impact on his life. Dib wasn't sure if his relationship with his sister was always like this, and something buried deep within his chest tells him that it wasn't, but the only memories he has of her seem to back up the idea that they were always distant with each other.

Dib felt himself gulp dryly as his gaze switched over to his dad in the photograph. His father seemed to happy about him graduating, and that was the last time Dib saw his father that happy. Dib has been trying to make his father content that extent again, but since that night, he only seemed to disappoint him little by little like with what happened in the break room earlier that day with his space-out. His "hallucinations" have been acting up more so than usual, and today was probably the fifth time someone caught him zoning out this week. It made Dib anxious when he thought that the meeting on Monday about how his spaceship plan would produce further dissatisfaction with his father. There was already clear disapproval of his assignment at today's gathering with Professor Membrane's business colleagues who fund Membrane Labs. Dib could only shudder at the possible backlash he would get when he would announce that his team hasn't even finalized their blueprints for the vessel as they originally planned because of unforeseen complications. Regardless of most of these incidents were outside of Dib's control, he still felt fully responsible for any displeasure he created for his dad. Therefore, Dib didn't want to add "talking to himself" to that list of disappointments to this month's list. Him talking to himself was one problem he could kick to the curb before his dad found out that he was returning to this habit once again.

Dib remembered of all the countless times his father had told him that he needed to stop speaking his mind. Literally. Dib was never able to put a filter over his mouth whenever he was in deep thought. Despite trying not to spill his innermost thinking to whoever happened to be in the room with him at the time, Dib's mouth verbalized each sentence he thought of; good and evil. His dad pointed out that Dib can become harsh in his personal opinions of people, and if they ever happened to hear him talk to himself about how he views them, not only would they think he was weird, but they could take high offense to what he said. That, in turn, could ruin his relationships and his reputation. Fortunately, Dib had managed to control this troublesome habit a few years ago, or at least he thought he had. Lately, with the sudden wave of new recollections, this old habit started to come back. Whenever Dib found himself feeling intense levels of anxiety, excitement, exhaustion, or loneliness, he began to talk to himself out loud, sometimes even answering himself as if he was in a one-sided conversation.

Dib knew that this occurrence was some sort of coping mechanism from his childhood that his brain manufactured to assist in handling the overwhelming emotions he felt from time to time. By talking to someone, mostly to himself, it made it easier for his brain to process and tend to these emotions. Dib always deemed it somewhat of a silly habit but understood why he would have developed this practice when he was a kid. If he was this distant with his sister when he was younger and if his father was always working like now, then Dib could comprehend why his younger self would rely on talking to himself to cope with loneliness and bottled up emotions. However, Dib was 23 now for god's sake. He wasn't a kid anymore, and he shouldn't keep doing this.

Damn, all this negative thinking made Dib wish he could finish the can of beer he was working on before the plane crash.

"Computer," Dib started. "Make sure to alert me whenever I start talking to me again."

"Would you like for me to enforce positive punishment and shock you lightly with the house's defenses whenever you are speaking with yourself out loud?"

"Of course not. If I authorized you to do that, I would constantly be shocked, and I'm not enough of a masochist to allow it."

"Understood, sir." A couple of short beeps sounded throughout the house, leading Dib to believe that the computer was remembering his wish of not being electrocuted. After a couple of seconds, the female voice spoke up again. "On an unrelated note, judging from your disheveled and dirty appearance, I am sure you are aware of the plane that crashed in the backyard. Inside the vessel is a heat signature of the intruder. Unfortunately, I cannot identify the foreign aircraft."

"Yes, I'm aware," Dib looked down at himself upon his computer's comment and noted how dusty he looked. The crash must have created a giant tidal wave of dirt along with hurling pieces of the ground onto his roof. Dib winced at how dirty the outside of his house must look. He could quickly shower and wash away all the filth and bandage any scrapes he could have gotten, but he would have to do something about his house. If any dirt or a tiny part of rubble got into a crevice it shouldn't have, it could malfunction one of the house's security defenses. "The plane is most likely a make-shift aircraft or a secret experimental military plane. The intruder is probably the pilot who didn't eject. Since you managed to pick up a heat signature, I'm assuming the pilot is still alive?"

"If they are alive, they will not be for long."

Dib's breath hitched a bit at the morbid statement coming from the female robotic voice. A wave of uneasiness washed over him as his shoulders tensed, his body freezing in place. Confused and alarmed, he looked up at the ceiling with furrowed brows.

"C-Computer, what do you mean by that?"

A faint humming sound developed from behind Dib on the stairs, prompting him to turn around and see his floating screen come down from the upper floor. He frowned when he saw the flying technology make its way over to him, expecting it to be someone from the night staff at the lab calling him for help on their work. However, when he saw a white silhouette of a simple, basic house against a light blue background on the monitor, Dib sighed in relief. It was the computer system's default screen whenever it wanted to transport itself from the house's fixed service to a mobile one. Of course, the computer system wasn't able to do this by itself, meaning Dib had programmed for it to do so whenever it wanted.

Initially, the screen was assigned to Dib to use whenever he was too busy to go out in person for a conference, dinner party, or any other social gathering. While he did use it from time to time, Dib didn't like to. Dib deemed it was better to go in person and spend half an hour physically being at an event so that he could leave much earlier without feeling as bad. By using the monitor, Dib felt obligated to stay for most of a social gathering to make up for not showing up in person. Going in person made it seem like Dib put effort into attending and had planned to stay for longer than he did if it wasn't for "vital work" that Dib needed to get back too. While it wasn't a complete lie that Dib would always tell, he still felt slightly guilty about making false excuses so he can leave. However, that guilt would usually wash away whenever Dib came back to the safety of his home and lock himself away in his lab or sit back on his lawn chair and stare up at the stars.

Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, the screen stopped in front of Dib and projected live footage from one of his backyard security cameras. The image revealed the crashed purple plane half-buried within the ground coated with sprinkles of dirt that had scattered on and around it. Gray smoke rose from its broken components that had electrical shocks crackling and popping in a complaint of malfunction. With the camera zoomed onto the downed craft, Dib could see the deepness of the dents on the plane and all of the other damages it had undergone. With furrowed brows, he focused his eyes onto the inwardly bent windshield, still confused as to how glass could do something like that. He shook his head to dismiss the thought.

"Why are you showing me this?" Dib asked.

"Because of this," the robotic female voice answered as the camera footage switched from a standard video projection to one with vivid thermal colors. The plane went from a dark purple to a brilliant and vibrant yellow. Dib squinted his eyes a bit at the luminosity coming from the screen. It was so bright. The ground directly underneath the craft and the area surrounding it transitioned into a bright orange, and the areas further from the crash sight turned into a dull shade of a dark brown-red. Despite the cry of his eyes, Dib's directed gaze went to the giant glowing plane at the center of the screen. A further focus of the area made him realize that he couldn't see the heat signature of the pilot. There was no differentiation in thermal temperature to signify that someone was inside. From the looks of it, the airplane was empty inside.

"Where's the pilot's heat signature? I thought you saw it?"

"I am uncertain. Just a couple of moments ago, there was an orange silhouette of a body inside."

Dib felt his shoulders tense as his nerves began to bubble inside him in uneasiness.

"Did they get out of the plane?"

"No. The security system has not picked up any movement since the crash. The pilot should still be within the ship."

_If they hadn't left the plane and they're still inside of it while it's that hot, could they have died from a heat stroke?_

Dib felt as though the room dropped in temperature at the sudden thought he had. He quickly brushed the idea away, claiming that a person wouldn't die that quickly. Then again, Dib did take his time getting down from the roof once Dib saw that it was a plane that crashed into his backyard and not a meteor. If he had known the pilot didn't eject, he would have gotten to them faster. Dib didn't want to deal with a dead body. That would cause a lot of talk at work if people found out someone had died at _Dib Membrane's_ house while he was at home. Granted, it was because of a plane crash, but there are plenty of people in the world who don't like the Membrane family and would do anything to defile the name. With a shaky breath, he asked the computer his fear-stricken question.

"Y-You said they wouldn't be alive for long," Dib said. "Why? Did they die from how hot it was inside the plane? How hot was the inside of the plane anyway?!"

"It is 161 degrees Fahrenheit. When I saw the orange figure, the temperature of the body was 120. Would you like for me to rewind the footage to see what happened to the body?"

Dib didn't wait for his computer to finish its final sentence. He bolted from the living room, sprinting toward the kitchen as fast as his long legs could move. His heavy heart pounded against his chest, loaded with dread and panic that overwhelmed him into mental and physical overdrive. Dib's mind replayed the computer's words on repeat; _"The temperature of the body was 120."_

As he neglected the aching pain of his fatigued body, Dib welcomed the adrenaline pumping through his veins that instantly replaced the numbing morphine-like feeling he would usually experience. With his new and heightened senses, Dib was able to _feel _the air around him that smelt of smoke and tasted like heated metal. He could _hear _the stillness of the night. Not a single cricket dared to slice the sickening silence that had charged the sky with the wreck of the fallen airplane. As he maneuvered his way through his kitchen littered with broken window glass, Dib felt the shifting of the shattered shards underneath the sole of his shoes just as clearly as he heard its muffled crunch. But even with his powerful new senses overrunning his body and mind as it took in his environment, Dib couldn't stop thinking, _"The temperature of the body was 120."_

As he got nearer, Dib noticed that his glass sliding back door wasn't a door anymore. The destroyed glass left an empty frame in its place, but Dib didn't give it any more thought as he slowed to a stop and ducked his head through the doorway to prevent getting an unwanted haircut. Once past the door, Dib jogged over to the crashed airplane. When he got close enough to feel the heat of the wreckage, Dib lifted his hands defensively to guard his face from the intense warmth and the intoxicating stench of smoke. Now that he was up close, Dib was able to see the plane better, and while he was staring at the warped windshield glass, he wasn't thinking about how it could bend the way it did. Instead, he was thinking about what his computer had said, _"The temperature of the body was 120."_

Why was this statement so crucial to Dib? Why couldn't he stop thinking about it? Well, the average body temperature of a person is 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. People usually die once it rises to 109 degrees; however, he has heard of people who survived up to 115 degrees in extreme cases. However, there is no possible way a human being can survive a body temperature that high.

"The temperature of the body was 120," Dib repeated to himself in a low murmur. "They're probably dead by now. If not, they're going to be, just like the computer said."

As Dib stood in front of the plane, feeling somewhat helpless at not being able to have stopped this person from dying sooner, he stared at the ground in sorrow. Not only had the crash been from an aircraft and not a meteor as Dib had hoped it was, someone had died in the process. Dib tried not to think about how the day won't end until he has called the police, meaning that Dib still had to deal with their investigation. Knowing how stupid the people of this town are, Dib might even have to persuade the officers that he wasn't the one who killed the pilot and explain the cause of death for them.

Dib sighed. Today was a shitty day.

"Sir," the computer chimed as the floating monitor cruised up to Dib. "Would you like me to contact the police?"

Dib's gaze drifted from the ground to the screen that had the house logo on it once again. He weakly nodded his head.

"Yes, and notify them that there is a dead-"

A muffled heavy thud cut Dib short. He froze before looking around the yard, trying to figure out where the sound came. Dib didn't see anything, and the computer didn't seem to mention it. He must be hearing things.

"Sir?" The computer asked. "Notify them of what?"

Dib turned to face the monitor, mouth opening to reply just as he heard the same thud from before, only louder this time. Judging from the way the light blue screen of his computer screen turned to an alarming red, he thinks his AI system heard it too.

"There is an intruder here." The monitor warned. "There is movement inside the plane."

"Inside the plane?" Dib's eyes widen at the statement as a sudden wave of anxiety and confusion washed over him. He turned his head towards the plane, brows furrowed together. "But I thought they were-"

A series of thuds came from inside the aircraft, each sound of impact becoming louder than the last. Dib's computer ordered for the house's security defenses to beam spotlights at the fallen vessel so that they could see the pilot when they came out of the airplane. With lights shining on the plane, Dib was able to see what looked like a foot kicking against the bent windshield. After swallowing dryly in apprehension, Dib clenched his fists, eyes narrowing at the glass that was now becoming loose.

With a couple more kicks, the windshield finally popped out of place and fell onto the ground. Although, from the distance of where Dib was standing, he was incapable of seeing the inside of the plane. He found himself frozen in position, unwilling to move closer to see the pilot who had yet to come out. The crash site was probably still too hot for him to get near anyway. So, Dib called out to the aviator, hoping that they would reply and let him know that they were still alive and wouldn't have to tell the police that someone died on his property.

"Hey! Are you dead?"

Silence replied to him.

"Hey!"

More silence.

Dib sighed, putting his hands in the pockets of his dirty lab coat and turned to his floating computer screen.

"Call the police. Say there's been a crash."

The monitor beeped in reply before it drifted off into the house. With the departure of his only companion, Dib stared at the ground. His adrenaline levels were declining, and as he started to feel numb again, Dib missed the way his body reacted to the senses it was taking in. From his racing heart that was hammering in his chest to the increase of blood flow that Dib could feel within his veins, he loved it. Dib felt alive for a while, and, ironically, what made him feel that way was the threat of having a dead body in his yard. He was also able to understand why adrenaline junkies loved doing dangerous and spontaneous things. It was because of that feeling of being alive when death was nearby that triggers that response. The human body was incredibly fascinating sometimes. If it weren't for astronomy being a more exciting concept, Dib would have studied the human body instead. Perhaps he could have been a surgeon instead of an astronomer?

"H-Human..."

The smile that had subconsciously appeared on Dib's face fell. He quickly turned his gaze towards the plane and saw someone climbing out of it through where the windshield once was. As he watched the person make their way out of the vessel, Dib suddenly felt a cold chill go down his spine. He had expected the pilot to be dead, but there they were in front of him. However, they didn't look okay at all. Dib had expected to see lots of disturbing things during an airplane crash, such as a body burnt to the point of it being unidentifiable and severed limbs lying around; however, he didn't anticipate to see the pilot looking like they did.

They didn't wear a pilot's traditional uniform or a military one for that matter. Instead, they wore a pink collared long shirt and what looked like black leggings. From the haircut, Dib determined the pilot was probably male, but the body of the person was small. Too small for it to be a grown male. They were short, almost like they were the same height as a little prepubescent kid. Just as Dib was going to question if a young boy had stolen this plane and crashed it because they couldn't fly it, he noticed it. The little pilot was missing an arm, and their skin was green.

"What the fuck...?" Dib mumbled.

The pilot looked down while they slowly lowered themselves onto the ground, their legs visibly shaking when they placed all of their weight on the limbs. They slumped over, their only arm wrapping around their abdomen as the groaned in pain. The aviator raised his head to look up at Dib. Within the light, Dib could see how one of the pilot's eyes had swollen shut. The other was half-lidded, and from what Dib could see, the color of their iris was a lavender blue. It looked like a fake eye contact that cosplayers would wear, so he didn't think further of it. The pilot took a couple of steps towards Dib, which made him cautiously take a couple of steps back. A greenish-yellow liquid flowed down the side of their face from their scalp and down their chin, making Dib wonder what it could have been. It wasn't blood, that's for sure. **(*1)**

"Where...?" The pilot started weakly, voice hoarse, and low.

"What?" Dib asked, confused. "Where what? Are you okay? What is that liquid on you? Why is your skin green? How old are you? Do you work for the military? Did you steal this plane?"

The male groaned as he fell to his knees.

"S-Stop... talking..." The aviator said through heavy pants. Dib shut his mouth. Right. Now was not the time to be asking excessive questions. This person was not in the state to answer them. Dib would have to wait until this person has recovered in the hospital to talk to them. "Where is... Membrane Labs?"

Dib grew even more confused than he already was. Why is this guy asking for his workplace when he should be more concerned about not dying?

"Listen, you probably shouldn't move," Dib said as he slowly approached the injured pilot. "You could hurt yourself even more."

The aviator suddenly grew defensive and threw his hand up to motion for Dib to stop walking.

"No! S-Stay there! Don't come any closer!"

Dib froze in place, raising his hands in the air as an act of submission. The pilot's voice was very distinct, and Dib found it hard to believe that it belonged to a full-grown man. The pilot has to be a little boy.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Dib said. "I just want to see if there's anything I can do to help you."

The unswollen eye of the boy watered up at Dib's words. Dib furrowed his brows at the action but said nothing of it.

"H-Help? You...?"

Dib nodded his head and took a single step forward, which caused the boy to lean back from his stance on his knees and fall onto his butt. He scrambled back from Dib in fear, his back hitting the plane and preventing the boy from scooting away any further.

"N-N-No! Stay there!"

Dib's patience faltered a bit, and he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from lashing out on the kid. Dib knew he had to aid the child because otherwise, he'll look bad when the police finally show up, and they saw that he didn't help a little boy who was injured. When he calmed himself, he spoke again.

"I'm not going to hurt you. My name's Dib Membrane; I'm sure you've heard of-"

"Membrane?" The boy questioned as his defensive posture loosened. "You are... the Dib?"

"Yes, I'm Dib Membrane. I'm the heir to Membrane Labs, and I want to help you, but you have to let me."

The presumed pilot narrowed his eye at Dib skeptically and stared at him for a while before shamefully turning his head to the side.

"Fine... You may assist me."

Relief flooded through Dib's body as he walked over to where the boy was and recoiled when he felt how hot it was near the plane. He couldn't understand how the kid didn't seem to be sweating from the heat radiating off the crash site. Speaking of which, didn't his computer say that the boy's body temperature was 120 degrees? He didn't seem to be dying of heat exposure but his wounds. He would have to investigate that later. Right now, he had to help this little boy.

With an extension of his hand, Dib offered to help the boy up and was confused when the kid scoffed at him and pushed his hand away. The boy then tried to lift himself with his single arm, but when he kept failing to do so, Dib groaned in annoyance before bending down and gently scooping the boy up in his arm. Dib knew he shouldn't be moving the boy around so much when he's hurt, but he thought it would be better to move the kid away from the wreckage site and somewhere more cool.

"Release me...! Release... me now!" The boy weakly exclaimed through pants. "I refuse... to be touched... by your filthy hands...!"

Dib ignored the child's cries and attempts at thrashing around as he made his way back indoors.

"You said I could assist you," Dib stated, noticing how the boy's frailing reduced but remained regardless after he said this.

"T-That does not... mean you can... e-embrace me..."

Dib looked down at the kid, and his eyes widened a bit when he saw the boy's cheeks flush a dark green. **(*2)** When the boy noticed that Dib was staring down at him, the boy's cheeks darkened more, causing the child to burrow his face into Dib's shoulder. Perplexed by the odd behavior, Dib opened his mouth to say something but decided against it when he saw that the boy wasn't making a fuss about being carried anymore.

Once Dib made it inside the kitchen, he was able to take in more physical details about the boy now that they were in proper lighting. One of the things Dib noticed was how the clothes the little boy wore were worn down, torn, and dirty. Dib almost found it ironic that the boy complained about Dib being filthy when the kid looked messier than he did before he noticed the black glove on the boy's hand. Maybe the boy was a clean freak, but he just happened to get dirty during the crash?

There seemed to be dark spots on the boy, and because of his skin color, Dib assumed that the dark blue and black spots he saw were bruises. Some of the cuts the kid had weren't bleeding, nor were they red. To Dib, it looked liked the skin was sliced open and nothing more. Dib also noted how the arm the boy lost wasn't bleeding or had an open wound, indicating that he hadn't lost it recently, and now it was just a small nub at the shoulder. This information eased Dib because it meant that the child didn't lose his arm in the crash; however, Dib still felt pity for the boy. He would never get that arm back.

"You appear different..."

Dib blinked, realizing that he had been eyeing the kid this whole time, and in turn, the boy had been eyeing Dib back. Dib would have blushed in embarrassment for staring if it wasn't for the kid staring at him. They were both doing it, so there's no point in feeling shame. Still, Dib concluded that he shouldn't make a habit out of that. When he looked at the boy's face, Dib saw that it didn't appear as though the boy's cheeks were dark green anymore and were back to their original light green color. It also looked like the kid's swollen eye wasn't as bloated anymore. Interesting. However, Dib stopped himself from surveying the child anymore and recalled what the kid had said.

"Different? Different compared to what?"

The boy shifted his eye to the side and bit his busted lower lip, looking like Dib had caught him in saying something he shouldn't have. He looked back at Dib and slowly spoke as if he was careful in his word choice.

"Different to how... I saw you on TV." The boy swallowed, eyes scanning over Dib's face. "You are... taller and... older."

Dib attempted to smile at the statement but failed.

"I get that a lot."

The boy said nothing in return, making Dib feel glad because he didn't like talking to other people. Small talk was something he was never good at like his father. Dib wasn't the type of person to keep a conversation going, and there had been plenty of times where Dib had left his conversation partner in a state of awkward silence. Well, he never really felt uncomfortable about it, but Dib could tell his company always did, therefore making him feel that way too. However, the boy appeared as though he didn't care that the conversation ended there. The boy seemed just as pleased as Dib that they weren't talking anymore, which led Dib to believe that the comment the kid made about Dib appearing different in real life was him accidentally verbalizing his thoughts just like how Dib does.

Dib couldn't stop the small smile that appeared on his face. It felt nice to know that he wasn't the only one who did that.

Upon entering the living room, Dib walked over to the couch and carefully laid the boy down on it. Once he pulled away from the boy, a rush of chills abruptly hit Dib. He realized how warm the kid was because of how heated the plane was when he was in it for what could have been ten minutes. His temperature was abnormally high, turning the kid into a child-sized heating pad, and Dib was disgusted at how his body whined at the loss of warmth by the way it subconsciously leaned back towards the boy after putting him down. Dib rationalized his behavior by telling himself that he has been sitting on his roof for a while, and he's cold. Anyone would complain when warmth is denied. Dib was a grown man, and this boy was a child. He knew that sort of thing was just _wrong_.

Wait a minute, was this a child? Dib never asked. The way the kid speaks is much more formal compared to how a child would speak. Not to mention that this child would have to be smart enough to be able to fly a plane. Sure, he crashed it, but he still was able to get the aircraft to take off on the runway and maintain flight long enough to be able to reach the other side of town. Regardless of it being an experimental or military vessel, they would still need a runway, and the closest one is on the other side of the city where the airport is. That's a long time to be in the air for a kid.

"Hey," Dib started after sitting on the floor next to the couch. After the boy turned his head to stare blankly at Dib, Dib cleared his throat in discomfort. He couldn't just ask how the kid was. What if it was a grown man who just looked young? Would he be offended? Or would he be flattered? What if it was a kid? Then, where are his parents? How the hell was he able to fly a plane? Where did he even get the plane? Why does it look weird?

"Speak, human-pig." The boy commanded, irritated by how Dib had captured his attention, and then sank into his thoughts immediately afterward. Dib muttered a lame apology before he spoke again.

"How old are you?"

The boy blinked a couple of times, apparently confused by the question Dib asked. Dib assumed that out of all the things he could've asked, that one was probably not one the boy had anticipated hearing. As Dib watched the boy narrow his eyes at him, he noticed how the kid didn't have any hair on his eyebrows. Regardless of the lack of facial hair, Dib was still able to see the muscles above his eyes furrow together.

"That is none of your concern."

"It is if you're a child, and I have to figure out who and where your parents are."

The boy scoffed and then turned his head the other direction, facing the sofa.

"So, are you going to tell me?" Dib asked.

"I am older than you."

Dib almost laughed, but he managed to hold it back.

"Bullshit. You're older than 23?"

The boy—_man_ didn't say anything.

"You look 12."

The man still didn't say anything.

"Listen, if you're lying to me and I find out when the police get here—"

"You have contacted law enforcement?" The man looked over towards Dib again, who nearly lost his train of thought when he saw that the swollen eye of the pilot was no longer swollen. However, it seemed as though the man still couldn't open it. How was the guy recovering this fast? Dib glanced over the man's body, and it seemed like his cuts hadn't changed. The only things that had seemed to have healed were this guy's eye and his speech. It seemed like he couldn't catch his breath earlier.

"Yes, and—"

"Call them off," came the abrupt reply. Dib was dumbfounded.

"I can't just call them off," Dib stated. "You just crash-landed in my backyard, and they need to take you to the hospital to—"

"No, hospital!" The man shouted as he shot into a sitting position. Dib jumped back from the sudden yell and stared wide-eyed at the pilot who shook his head frantically at Dib. "Y-You can't take me to a hospital."

Dib narrowed his eyes at the man, distrusting his behavior. He understood if the man didn't like doctors, but in a situation like this, he thought most people would want to go to the hospital to make sure they weren't going to die.

"Why not?"

"M-My condition! It's r-rare! No one would understand it!" The man seemed to fumble for words. "They'll do tests that would kill me!"

"This condition of yours," Dib began. "Does it relate to why you have green skin?"

"Yes!"

Dib pursed his lip and stared suspiciously at the pilot on his couch. He didn't want to believe the guy, but then again, someone can't make up having green skin. Maybe it was a condition? Like a congenital disability, it probably mutated his DNA and made him green and unable to grow. Perhaps it caused hair loss as well? Dib could also bet that the hair the man had was from a wig. It looked like it anyway.

"Fine. No hospital."

The man sighed in relief and then fell back onto the couch, head landing on the pillow propped up against the armrest. He closed their eyes and threw his arm over his eyes, shielding them from the ceiling light.

"But you have to let me monitor you," Dib proposed.

"No," the man hissed.

"I can't risk letting you die. I also have a few questions about your plane."

"Again, no."

"To the hospital, it is then," Dib said with finality. With a pat to his thighs, Dib stood up from the floor and stretched his arms casually over his head. He glanced over to see that the man had tensed up and was biting his lip, but otherwise didn't move. Dib continued with his intimidation, hoping that the man would give in. "Would you like me to drive you there or do you want to wait for the police? They could show up with an ambulance and can start working on you before you even get to the hospital."

"You filthy pig-worm," the man seethed, removing his arm from his face but burying his head into the couch where Dib couldn't see him. "You may monitor me then."

Though the last part of his reply was muffled, Dib could still understand what he said. He smiled in accomplishment. Dib hoped that now that he was able to watch over the pilot's recovery, Dib might be able to inquire about the plane's round shape and how the pilot was able to endure surviving 120-degree temperatures. However, something tells him that the temperature thing could relate to the man's condition, which Dib could investigate. While Dib was by no means a doctor, he was a man of science, and health science probably wasn't as hard as it appears.

"So, what's your name anyway?" Dib asked, hands digging into his lab coat.

"Once again, that is none of your business," the man muffledly answered.

"I should at least know the name of my patient. I need to address you by something."

"Address me as your superior."

Dib felt his eye twitch in annoyance at the suggestion. This is the first time he wasn't the power figure in a conversation with another person that wasn't his family or Tak. Dib had gotten used to everyone treating him with high respects and acting like Dib was a scientific savior like his dad. People usually let Dib lead the conversation (which always failed) and were the ones who frantically asked him questions about his work life and who he was outside of the lab. And whenever Dib feigned interest in his talking companion by asking them questions, they would end up talking too much and over-shared. However, this guy didn't do that. He appeared to be annoyed by Dib trying to pry information out of him. Dib had thought this guy to be a fan of the Membrane family with all they have done to improve the world, but Dib was quickly starting to see that maybe that wasn't the case.

"Funny. Now tell me your name."

"No."

"Tell me."

"No."

"I swear to god if you don't tell me I'll take you to the hospital right now," Dib warned. "Tell me your name."

The man growled and then turned his head to face Dib. Miraculously, to Dib's surprise, he opened both of his lavender-blue eyes and turned his gaze into a dangerous glare that sent daggers at Dib. Dib's breath hitched in response to the piercing stare that kept his eyes fixed to the other man's.

"Zim," the man stated cooly.

A quick flash of ruby red darted past Dib's sight, and Dib found himself having a difficult time registering what the man had spoken as crimson eyes started to come into vision.

"W-What?"

Just as the words left his lips, Dib felt his legs buckle underneath him, and before he knew it, he could feel himself falling down a dark tunnel. Dib's heart felt like it was suffocating within the confined space of his chest, and Dib discovered that he couldn't breathe. Someone must have reached into his ribcage and squeezed the air out of his lungs. Panic and fear flooded Dib's senses, and he began desperately gasping for air. Dib didn't know where he was, but he knew it was dark, and he _couldn't _breathe, and he was going to _die_, and _no one_ would ever know.

Suddenly, he landed on something soft in a dark room, and as he looked around, Dib saw that he was in that same moonlighted room as the memory of where he first saw those beautiful scarlet eyes that left him breathless. The recollection was more clear now, but Dib could still see the static overlay that prevented him from seeing too much. It wasn't long before he saw movement in the corner of his eye, and before he turned to see what it was, he was already enamored with the sight. With the cupping of his cheek, the soft glow of radiant red circles engulfed Dib in an electrifying sense of comfort and reassurance. He felt so relieved to be saved by their gorgeous splendor that he found himself leaning his face towards the person with the ruby-red eyes. To his astonishment, Dib couldn't believe it when he thought he saw that person lean towards him too.

"Hey, Dib-stink!"

Dib gasped as he snapped back to reality, wincing when he felt his cheek burn. He looked around to see that he was now sitting on the couch next to the pilot. Dib rubbed a hand over the inflamed flesh on his face. Had this guy slapped him?

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was? I think I heard you wrong the first time."

The man was now sitting up next to Dib, and he seemed vaguely concerned with Dib's state judging by how they stared at Dib for a while, almost as if they were making sure that he was okay before he said his name again. After some time, the man sighed when he deemed Dib okay enough and repeated himself.

"Zim."

"Zim?" Dib echoed as he arched a questioning brow. The man nodded in confirmation.

"I am Zim."

* * *

**Chapter Notes:**

**(*1)** \- Because of his antennas, lack of nose and ears, and how there was this yellow-green goop that you see when Zim's eye pops out in the "Planet Jackers" episode, I think it's safe to assume he is something of insect species. Therefore, whenever he bleeds, it won't be red. It'll be green/yellow because that's the color they bleed. I also want to make him as alien as possible to that Dib can break out of his "non-believer" phase faster.

**(*2)** \- Again, since insects don't bleed red, they wouldn't blush pink as we do. Since their blood is green/yellow, I'm making Zim's blushes be dark green instead. For bruises, they'll be blue and black.


End file.
